


To you, I'll give the world

by frostysunflowers



Series: A Life of Melody [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ballet, Dancer Peter Parker, Dancer!Peter, Feels, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Parent Tony Stark, Peter-centric, Precious Peter Parker, Singing, Songfic, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 20:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18532588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostysunflowers/pseuds/frostysunflowers
Summary: Peter has been keeping a secret for a while.





	To you, I'll give the world

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to apologise in advance for this. What started out as a short scene involving just Tony finding Peter dancing in the kitchen turned into...well, over 3000 words of ridiculousness basically. 
> 
> Lots of cheese and mushiness ahead folks, tread carefully all ye who enter here!
> 
> I've made up a few random characters for this just to fill in some gaps, my knowledge of dancing and ballet is slim at best and I have no idea if the flow of this is any good but hey, I didn't stay up all night writing this to have it sit idly by. 
> 
> Enjoy, and please be kind as I know it's silly! Apologies for any errors.

''I need you to dance.'' 

Peter looked up from his lunch. MJ stared impassively back at him. 

''I, erm…'' he swallowed the hunk of tuna sandwich in his mouth. ''R-right now?''

MJ dropped down into the seat opposite him and held a flyer out to him.

''The talent show?'' he said, tilting his head in bemusement.

''Yeah, I’m entering.''

He must have pulled a face because her eyes darkened in warning.

''Problem?''

''N-no!'' Peter stammered, smiling sheepishly. ''What, erm, what are you going to do?''

''Sing.''

Peter gawped at her.

''You,'' he said, voice high with disbelief, ''want to sing on stage?''

MJ rolled her eyes. ''It’s for college applications. I need all the extra credit stuff I can get. Singing is something I can do.''

''Y-yeah but...really?'' Peter sputtered, quite convinced that he was going mad.

''Yep. And you’re going to dance.''

Peter felt his stomach do a weird flip. 

''I don’t know why you think I would-''

''Spare me, Parker. I know you can dance.''

Peter felt the cold tingle of panic skip up his arms. 

He opened his mouth to argue, to dismiss, to lie, to do anything that would stop this from happening, but the glint in her eyes told him that he was already done for. 

''How?'' he whispered.

MJ shrugged, the corner of her mouth lifting into a knowing smirk. 

Nowhere near reassured, Peter rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans. It wasn’t like she was wrong. It had been about a month after he got bitten that he’d realised that he was less clumsy than he used to be. The sudden ability to perform complex gymnastics and contort his body into all manner of weird shapes as he swung his way around the city had been a welcome surprise, and it was through testing his new-found abilities that he discovered he’d developed a sense of rhythm.

Shortly after that, he’d started watching dance videos on his phone during the quieter moments of his patrols, tentatively copying the moves across the rooftops whilst he waited for the criminals of Queens to show their faces. 

Ballet, classical and modern, had been the style that caught Peter’s interest the most and soon enough, he’d found himself following along to routines, watching well-known performances and dancing his heart out when nobody was watching.

Except somebody had been watching. 

He could try and kid himself that he’d been learning because it was useful, because the skills were transferable to Spider-Man (which they kinda were) but really, he’d done it because he liked it, because he enjoyed it, because it made him feel good.

Made him feel _free_. 

The thing was, it was meant to be a secret, something that only he knew. Not because he was embarrassed, though that was a factor if he was being completely honest, but because before the spider had bitten him, he’d never have been able to do anything like it. 

Peter remembered that conversation with Tony, all the way back when they first met, where he’d explained about how he’d love to play football but didn’t think he should because he was different and it just wouldn’t be right. 

And that was the other thing.

Tony. 

That conversation had been the start, had been the catalyst for all that happened afterwards, had been what sparked a connection between the two of them, and he just couldn’t stomach the idea of his mentor, his friend, the man he saw like a father knowing that he hadn’t stood by his principles, had ended up using his powers for selfish reasons. 

So it was a secret.

 _Had_ been a secret.

The sound of MJ snapping her fingers startled Peter out of his thoughts. 

''MJ,'' he said slowly, ''I really don’t think I should.''

''Why?'' MJ demanded. ''Because you’re decent enough to actually do this well?''

''I…well, yeah?''

MJ made a sound of disgust. ''Whatever. You’re doing it, loser.'' She slapped a sheet of paper against his chest. ''Details of rehearsal times are on there.''

''Wha-rehearsals?'' he stammered, clutching the sheet. ''I can’t just-I have-''

''Don’t be late.''

*******

Peter was exhausted. 

There was less than a week until the show and Peter had been rehearsing five nights a week on top of homework and being Spider-Man for the last four weeks. His body ached, his head throbbed and he was pretty sure that he resembled something like a zombie. 

They would be the second to last act out of ten, so there would be a lot of time beforehand to sit and panic before going on stage. 

Peter had nearly flipped out during the first rehearsal. The looks of surprise on so many of his classmates’ faces had been enough to send a warning of danger up his spine like a lightning bolt. 

Then MJ had started to sing and he knew he was done for. 

The other dancers, a group of seven students made up of two boys and five girls, were friendly enough. He knew Annie and Toby from his physics class, and he knew Coral played clarinet in band. The others weren’t that familiar to him but after the initial shock of seeing him, shy unassuming Peter Parker, dance for the first time, they warmed up to him quickly. 

MJ was a ruthless director, but she knew her stuff. The routine was short, unhurried but intense and Peter felt his muscles burn in places he didn’t even know existed. Every night he would collapse, bone-weary and so tired, on his bed and shuffle out just as tired the next morning, ready to do it all again. 

May had been worried.

So worried to the point that she’d cornered him in his bedroom and demanded to know if he was on drugs.

He’d ended up telling her everything after she had thrown a plastic cup at him and ordered him to pee in it. 

Now she had a ticket to the show and had nearly teared up with excitement on several occasions. 

Tony had noticed too.

''You not sleeping again?'' the man had demanded when Peter had dozed off and spilt soda all over himself in the lab.

''O-oh, no I am,'' Peter had protested as DUM-E accosted him with paper towels, ''I’ve just had a lot of homework lately.''

''Uh huh.'' Tony clearly didn't believed him but had thankfully let it drop.

With only a few days to go, Peter genuinely thought he was going to get away with it, was already looking forward to the relief he would feel when the show was over and he could relax, knowing that his secret was, at least where Tony was concerned, still safe. 

Then Steve had found him dancing in the communal gym. 

Peter stared at Steve in panic, headphones clutched tightly in his fingers as he removed them from ears. The man stared back at him, eyebrow quirked and a puzzled smile on his face. 

''I didn’t know you could dance, Peter.''

''I…'' Peter swallowed, feeling the heat rush to his face, ''thought everybody was asleep.''

''Couldn’t sleep,'' Steve replied with a shrug. ''Thought I’d come and give the bag a few punches.'' He jerked his head at the stack of punching bags over in the corner. 

''Oh.''

''So how long have you-''

''Please don’t tell Tony.'' Peter blurted. 

Steve frowned. ''What?''

''He, erm,'' Peter shuffled his feet, ''doesn’t know that I can do…this.''

''Why not?''

Peter wasn’t really sure how to answer him. Instead, he stuffed his headphones into his pocket and made to leave the room, mumbling excuses about needing to get up early, but a gentle grip on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. 

''Peter,'' Steve’s voice was kind and made something in Peter’s chest twinge. 

It all came out then. Peter talked and Steve listened and Peter talked some more and Steve still listened until they were sat in silence, leaning against the collection of punch bags. 

''I think you should tell him.''

Peter shook his head frantically. 

''No I-didn’t you listen? I can’t!''

''Peter, it’s obvious that you want him there.''

Peter looked at his fingers as they twirled anxiously in his lap. He _did_ want Tony there, so much but the idea of disappointing him, of seeing that look on his face, the one that had been on his face when he’d stepped out of the armour that time after the ferry incident, was just too much. 

''He’d want to be there.''

Peter just shook his head, hoping that the tears in his eyes weren’t too visible. 

''I’ll come, then.''

''What?''

Peter’s startled shout rang loudly around the room, making Steve chuckle.

''I’ll come and watch in his place.''

''But I-''

''Peter,'' Steve dropped a hand onto his shoulder. ''I’ll be there, okay?''

Peter looked into Steve’s face, the face that had been the image of reassurance for so many over the years and found that he could do nothing but nod in acceptance. 

******

''Oh god oh god oh god-''

''Would you cut it out, Bridget? I’m freaking out enough without you doing that!''

''I can’t help it! The place is full!''

''It’s not that many people.''

''There’s over a hundred at least!''

Peter listened to the other acts squabble, panic and reassure one another in the hallway outside the dressing room as MJ brushed powder onto his face.

''Why do I have to wear make-up again?''

''So you don’t look all gross and sweaty whilst I sing my pretty little heart out.''

Peter cracked an eye open to look at her. Her hair was in its usual style, loose and half hanging over her face, but her eyes were adorned with a colourful eyeshadow and her lips were painted a pretty rose colour. He waited for the inevitable wisecrack as she caught his gaze, but instead she quirked a small, unsure smile at him and he felt the moisture vanish from his mouth. 

''You’re gonna do great,'' he said gently.

MJ lowered the brush and studied him, her face unreadable. 

''I’m serious,'' he said, opening his other eye to look at her properly. ''You’re a-a really wonderful singer.''

There was a pause, a long one, where they simply looked at one another. Peter felt like he was under a microscope and every inch of his being was screaming out with insecurity and awkwardness but he held his ground, held her stare despite the sickening thud of his heart in his throat. 

Then, she smiled again, close-lipped and genuine and bright.

''Thanks, Park-,'' she stopped herself and took a breath. ''Thank you, Peter.''

The moment was broken as the rest of their act swarmed the dressing room in a flurry of voices and dramatic gestures and suddenly clothes were being removed and shoes were being thrown and Peter saw way more of the female body than he’d ever seen before in real life as the girls unashamedly stripped down to their underwear and shimmied into their costumes and soon enough he was dressed in a white top and black dance tights and waiting in the wings with the others for their turn, clustered together like a little herd of nervous mice. 

MJ stepped out first, microphone in hand, and didn’t glance back at them as she went to stand just off to the side of the stage where a spotlight shone down on her. 

The audience went silent and Peter could hear the humming of his blood in his ears. 

He took a deep breath as the air filled with the melancholy tones of a piano. 

_Come on, Spider-Man. Come on, Peter!_

He stepped out onto the stage and struck up first position.

Lights fell onto him and he moved with the others, throwing himself forward and landing on the tips of his toes, taking his position in a circle, arms poised over his head.  
MJ’s voice rang out, clear and so beautiful that it made his skin tingle just like it had every single time before. 

_''For you…there’ll be no more crying…''_

Peter leapt across the stage, reaching an impressive height before landing back on his toes, pausing for a moment before pointing his left arm up and extending his right leg, bending as far as he could before flying into another leap. 

_''For you…the sun will be shining…''_

His heart was racing furiously but he carried on; pique, spin, bend, kick, twirl, slow and gentle, over and over as the others moved gracefully with him. 

_''And I feel that when I’m with you…it’s alright…''_

He was actually doing it. Dancing. On stage. 

A small stage in the school auditorium but still.

He was doing it. 

He was a bit sloppy and he knew his form was far from perfect and he’d definitely missed a few steps. 

_But he was doing it._

He let out a breathless little laugh as the reality hit him. 

_''To you…I’ll give the world…''_

Each fouetté, every bend and leap, all the delicate arches of his arms and the curls of his legs; even the way he threw in an impromptu Pas de Chat to cover for Annie who missed a step, made him feel lighter than air. 

_''To you…I’ll never be cold…''_

Peter spun and held his arms out to catch Coral in a graceful lift, folding his body to the ground as he lowered and released her, watching as the group performed a series of synchronised pirouettes across the stage.

Holy shit, this was actually going well. 

He spared a glance out at the audience, saw Ned grinning excitedly at him, saw the dumbfounded faces of so many of his peers. Flash stood out in particular with his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. 

Then he spotted May’s tear-streaked face and let out a shaky sigh of relief, feeling a massive rush of love at the sight of her. 

_'''Cause I feel that when I’m with you…it’s alright…''_

He looked further out into the crowd and felt his insides twist with astonishment before they fizzled with affection. 

Steve was there.

Half hidden in the shadows at the back, but still obviously there.

Just like he said he would be. 

_''And the songbirds are singing like they know the score…''_

Nearly missing the step, Peter pirouetted twice, arched back and spun his upper body in a whirl and paused, waiting for the others to flow past him in a wave. His eyes glanced back out to the audience and he nearly fell over in disbelief. 

Steve was still there. 

But so was Nat.

_What the-_

And Thor and Clint; even Bruce and Rhodey were there, stood together at the back, concealed as much as they could be in the darkened hall.

His eyes flickered over their smiling faces and then his heart bounced off his ribs and the butterflies in his stomach burst into life as he spotted another familiar face. 

Tony was there too.

_''And I love you, I love you, I love you…''_

Tony was _there._

Watching him _dance._

_''Like never before…''_

Peter moved his eyes away as Annie caught his hand and pulled him into their double spin, bracing her legs to halt his faltering steps and allowing him to twirl her into another lift.

Tony was there.

Which meant that he _knew_ , he had _seen._

_But did that mean-_

Peter steered Annie towards him, holding her close before raising her up in one final lift. As he tilted his head back with the move, he sought out Tony again, dread already settling heavy within his stomach. 

_''And I love you, I love you, I love you…''_

The dread exploded into dismay as he saw the hard set of Tony’s jaw, the darkness of his stare, the firm line of his mouth. 

He recognised that look instantly. 

Disappointment. 

Peter closed his eyes as the applause began. 

_''Like never before…''_

 

******

 

As everyone scrambled around and flapped excitedly at each other and exchanged hugs with the other acts, Peter fled for the dressing room, needing to hide, needing to be as far away from the look on Tony’s face as possible.

He smiled shakily as hands patted his back and kind voices offered praise and stumbled into the thankfully empty room where he quickly closed the door, shut his eyes and fell against it with a wobbly sigh. 

''Nice tights.''

Peter jumped at the unexpected voice, dropping into a defensive stance.

''Whoa,'' Tony said from where he sat in a chair by the mirrors, ''I come in peace, Underoos.''

''I-you…but-'' Peter wobbled back to his feet. ''You’re here.''

''I am.’''

Peter continued to gape at him, torn between making a run for it and sinking to the floor again. He scrubbed his face and raked his fingers into his hair, smearing powder into the messy brown curls. 

''I don’t understand how…''

''Steve told me.''

Peter let his head fall back against the door with a _thunk._

''Of course he did,'' he whined. 

''And Karen told me a few months back.''

''What?!''

Tony got up and came to stand closer to him. 

''Yeah, I’ve known about the whole dancing thing for a while, kiddo.''

''Oh…''

Peter thought back to all the times they’d hung out over the past few months. He couldn’t pinpoint anything being different, any change in the way Tony treated him or acted towards him; all he could remember was laughter and fun, blowing stuff up in the lab and watching movies, a hand trailing through his hair after he fell asleep on the couch and the unfaltering warm presence that was just simply Tony.

''Why didn’t you say anything?''

Tony shrugged. ''I figured if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me.''

Tears stung Peter’s eyes. Out of confusion, embarrassment, insecurity, he couldn’t quite tell.

Tony moved even closer then and took him by the shoulders.

''Jeez, kid…you were…''

Peter closed his eyes and braced himself. 

Tony threw up his hands and laughed weakly. ''You were _beyond_ brilliant.''

Peter’s eyes snapped back open, a few tears falling onto his cheeks.

''R-really?''

''Really,'' Tony breathed emphatically and swept Peter into a crushing hug. 

Peter’s arms flailed by his sides in bewilderment before he clutched onto Tony, fingers grasping the fabric of his suit jacket. He felt his chest ache unbearably as he tried to hold his emotions in, tried to fight against the wave of sobs wanting to burst out of him. 

''I…I thought you’d be disappointed, I mean you looked disappointed-'' he babbled. 

''Are you kidding? I was trying not to cry!''

The admission had Peter gawking at the side of Tony’s head.

''B-but I thought because what I said, about not wanting to play football and stuff that you’d think I was…''

He paused as Tony moved back enough to see his face. 

''Petey,'' he said and Peter felt himself soften at the nickname, ''seeing you up there like that…'' he shook his head and grinned, pride evident on his face. ''If it makes you this happy, why the hell would I be disappointed? How could I be anything but proud?''

Peter’s face crumpled and Tony’s face blurred as he let out a sob. Tony pulled him close again, a hand cupping the back of his head and a thumb brushing the hair at the nape of his neck, grounding him as Peter felt months of worry and tension and guilt flow out of him with the tears. 

All of a sudden, he felt lighter than air again. 

''And just so we’re clear,'' Tony murmured against his hair, ''I am so getting you to do shows for everyone at the tower.''

Peter snorted. ''No you’re not.''

''I so am. I’ll charge admission and everything.''

''You can’t charge them, they live there.''

''I can do whatever the hell I want.'' Tony said in his best ‘Tony Stark’ voice. 

''You’re an idiot.''

Tony gently pulled away and cupped Peter’s face in his hands.

''And you, Peter Parker,'' he brushed the tears from Peter’s powdery cheeks, ''are amazing.''

Peter laughed weakly and gave him a watery smile before closing his eyes as a quick kiss was pressed into his hair. 

''Though I gotta say, kiddo, this whole powder and sweat thing isn’t really doing it for me.''

Peter rolled his eyes as Tony playfully shoved him away. He looked at the man standing there, suit jacket now smeared with white powder and tears, and felt a surge of love so strong and fierce that it almost rendered him breathless. 

''Thank you.''

He didn’t need to say anything else. Tony knew, he could tell.

''Anytime, buddy.''

A knock at the door broke the moment. 

''I better get outta here,'' Tony retrieved a pair of sunglasses from his pocket. ''Find out where those miscreants have hidden themselves.''

''I can’t believe they all came.''

''Oh, please,'' Tony scoffed. ''you should have seen the look Nat gave Steve when he originally said it was just me and him going. Thought she was genuinely going to kill him.''

''I-I’m glad he told you,'' Peter said softly.

''So am I, kid.''

The door flew open, eliciting a high pitched yelp from Tony. MJ strode in, glanced between the two of them and rolled her eyes.

''Are you having a moment?'' she drawled sarcastically. 

''Wha-Oh, no, we’re good,'' Peter stammered, pointing at Tony. ''He was just gonna leave and I can go if you wanna get changed or-''

''You were really not that rubbish out there.''

The backhanded compliment made him blush. ''Oh, erm, thanks! You, I mean, you sang really, wow, it was awesome.''

Peter could practically hear the grin appearing on Tony’s face. He turned to glare at the man but MJ spoke again.

''You wanna go grab a milkshake or something after they announce the winner?''

''Huh?'' Peter spun back to face her.

Something changed in the air then. The hairs on his arms stood on end and a tickle ran down his spine, but it wasn’t one of warning or danger this time; it was a warm, shivery sensation that made him lick his lips nervously. 

MJ was looking at him in a way he’d never seen her look at him before, in a way that made his pulse thrum furiously and his toes tingle. 

A hand clapped his shoulder as Tony slipped past him with a knowing smile on his face.

''I’ll see you later, kiddo.''

''I…oh, yeah,'' Peter stammered, not quite able to look away from the girl standing in front of him. ''B-bye.''

The door had barely closed before MJ was now directly in front of him, with her hands touching his chest, and her hair tickling his cheek, and her lips brushing against his, and for the third time that night, Peter felt lighter than air. 

They didn’t win the talent show. 

Peter didn’t mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Dancing Peter is just one of my favourite things <3 And MJ being able to sing is a nod to the actress who plays her as she is fabulous. And of course Tony is proud of his spider-baby!
> 
> Kudos and comments greatly appreciated!


End file.
